DISCLAIMER: Gundam Wing belonged to
Sunrise and co. I’m not making any profits out of this, so don’t sue. Oh, those
you think you’ve never heard before belong to me. And feedback is very welcome,
people!☺
TIMELINE: The story takes place after Survival of the Fittest, I’d say almost two years.
By Arayelle Lynn.
“You’re all going to fetch your
Gundams?” Lady Une echoed what Wu Fei said earlier. Their decision to utilize
the Gundams told her only one thing; they’re going to war against Winteridge.
“Heero’s on it as we speak,” Wu
Fei simply said, as if it didn’t matter what the head Preventers thought. “The
others are preparing to leave the headquarters as soon as they’re clear to
launch.”
Sally put her hands on the table.
“But aren’t you being a little too hasty? We don’t even know when or if
Winteridge is going to attack.”
“Precisely. We don’t know when
he’ll be attacking,” said Wu Fei, looking at his partner. “And now that he has
clones of us, we can be sure that he’ll attack anytime soon.” Then his face
hardened. “Besides, we’re determined not to be taken by surprise again, like
the war with the Telrhani.” At that, he glanced at Mylin, who was listening in.
Lady Une sighed. There’s nothing
she could do to stop them. Excluding Wu Fei, the Gundam pilots were not in the
Preventers agency. And so, she can’t control their movements. Even Zechs, a
full fledged agent, had gone back to Earth to fetch Epyon. No matter how hard
it was for her to admit, they were going to war.
“Alright, you’re dismissed, Wu
Fei,” she relented. “Go fetch your Gundam and I’ll make sure that a hangar is
made available for them.”
>>>@@<<<
Dorothy continued to follow
Trowa. As soon as the silent pilot left the room, Dorothy saw her chance to have
a few words alone with him. But now that they were alone, she found herself
searching for the right words to say to him.
“Something’s troubling you?”
Trowa suddenly asked, startling her. She looked ahead and saw that Trowa had
stopped walking.
“I didn’t have a chance to thank
you. That’s twice you’ve saved my life,” she said slowly.
Trowa shrugged, nonchalantly.
“Just doing my job. Besides, Quatre would be sad if anything happen to you,” he
said. There’s a strange hollowness in his voice. ‘One loss is enough,’ he
thought to himself.
“I see,” said Dorothy. Then, she
started to turn away.
“Actually, I have a favor to ask
from you.” Again, Trowa startled her. Dorothy looked up at him, concerned.
“What is it, Trowa? What do you
want me to do?” she asked, surprised by the level of eagerness in her voice.
Trowa looked at her carefully.
He knew that he’d be asking a lot from Dorothy by this, but there’s no other
way. There were too many lives at stake. “I need you to take over for Quatre. I
need you to return to the colonies and calm them down. You must meet with the
representatives and convince them not to get themselves involve in the coming
war, one way or the other.”
Dorothy’s face paled. “What?
How?” she cried. “I can’t do that. They won’t listen to me. I’m from Earth,
remember? I have little influence on the colonists as I have on the Earth
representatives. And my grandfather was the one who had led the oppression on
the colonies years ago.”
“But you’re the only representative they saw Quatre trust the most. And it’s logical that they would trust your counsel although Quatre has supposedly betrayed them,” Trowa argued. “At this moment, the colonists didn’t have anyone else that could provide them with guidance, with answers. They’re all confused and scared because they believed that Quatre has joined Winteridge. And because of that, they need someone to replace Quatre. Someone who care enough about protecting this peace and not jeopardize it.”
He held her eyes. “And only you can assure them that
peace still stands. Only you can convince them not to break this peace
by joining Winteridge or worse yet, start a war.” It was then Dorothy saw a
pleading look in his green eyes. “Please, do this for Quatre. He has worked so
hard to make this peace happen. Don’t let everything he sacrificed for gone to
waste.”
Dorothy was so surprise at this
side of him that she didn’t say a thing for a long time. She could finally see
all his anxiety and his pain shown in his eyes at that very moment. This was
her first glimpse of emotion coming from the quiet and reserved pilot. This was
the other side of him that Trowa tried to hide. It was then she realized how
Quatre meant to him, how everyone meant to him. They’re all his family.
“Alright,” she relented, still
surprised. “I’ll do it.”
Trowa smiled gratefully at her.
It was one of his rarest and Dorothy found herself liking it. “Thank you,
Dorothy. I owe you one.”
With that, he gave her a salute
and then walked away.
>>>@@<<<
He watched the red haired girl
exited the cell. She had been a too regular visitor to the occupant of the cell
that he was beginning to dislike it. He
watched her talking to the two guards, stationed on either side of the door,
obviously giving some orders. But to him, whatever orders she had, he began to
resent having her near the patient. Why? Because every time she was there, the
patient’s condition deteriorated. And naturally, she would leave him to
clear up the mess.
He straightened up as soon as he
saw her walking towards him. “The prisoner seemed to have trouble breathing.
Tend to him,” she ordered, handing him the syringe that she had just used to
put the patient back to sleep. Then, she walked away.
Suppressing his real feelings,
he entered the cell, minding the guards. He walked over to the patient. Did he
say patient? Yes, this boy was a patient to him not a prisoner as the others
treated him. He then checked the boy’s vital signs, confirming his worse
suspicions.
His body was reacting to the
drugs administered to him.
“Wh… what’s wrong with me?”
someone slurred. He was surprised to find that the boy was still conscious.
Obviously, he had been fighting against the drug. But nobody could fight a drug
in this condition. Nobody normal, that is.
It told him that this boy was indeed a Gundam pilot.
Still maintaining his
professional facade, he regarded the boy. “Go to sleep, Mr. Winner. Don’t fight
the drug. You’ll feel better when you wake up again. I promise,” he said,
letting a little emotion seeped into his voice. But the prisoner was
unconscious even before he could finish the sentence.
How he hated lying to the
prisoner. He knew that Winner’s condition would not turn for the better. That
it would continue to deteriorate until they stop using the drugs and give him
proper treatment. But how can he convince his employer to stop where their only
concern was to keep the prisoner out of trouble?
“Inhuman. Animals!” he spat to
himself. “They should’ve killed him instead. That’d be a kinder fate than
this.” He tried to suppress his growing anger but failed.
But one look at the prisoner,
made his anger turned to sorrow. His hand reached for the boy’s forehead,
wiping off the cold sweat. The boy was definitely developing a fever. A bad
sign. “I wish I could help you, young man,” he whispered, his growing concern
over his patient increased. “But they’d kill me if I do more than they ordered.
Just like they killed Dr. Randells.”
With that, he pulled up a chair
and sat by the patient’s side. If he can’t do anything to help the patient, he
could at least stay by his side while his life slipped away.
>>>@@<<<
The first thing that greeted
Heero when he got home was the smell of stir fry chicken rice. Then, he saw
someone emerged from the kitchen to greet him. “You’re late,” that someone
said, as he closed the door behind him.
“It was raining,” he answered,
taking the towel that was handed to him.
“Figures,” she said, wheeling
her wheelchair around to return to the kitchen. “Dry yourself up and change.
I’ll wait for you at the dinner table.” With that, she disappeared inside.
Heero went to his room and found his warm clothes on his bed. Slipping off his
wet shirt, he thought back about what had transpired just a few hours ago.
>>>@@<<<
Wu Fei was ready to leave when
he sensed someone watching him. Turning around, he saw Mylin, looking at him
from the bottom ramp. “You’re going to stick around?” he asked, with a minor
surprise. “I thought you’d be eager to leave this place.”
Mylin shrugged. “Your Lady Une
asked me to stick around to assist them. Not that I have any place to go,
so I thought I’d stay until I’m no longer needed.” She looked at him with her
alien eyes. “You have a problem with that?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t.
But the other agents might.”
She waved away his last
statement, nonchalantly. She knew all about the stares she’s been getting. “I
can take care of myself.”
“That’s not what I’m afraid of,”
he muttered to himself as he entered the shuttle. Whether Mylin had heard him
or not, she chose to let the statement drop. She then moved away from the
shuttle and walked out of the hangar.
>>>@@<<<
She watched Heero ran full
diagnostics on Wing Zero. Though she had done it for him earlier, she knew that
Heero would feel more secure if he’d checked it himself. And that was fine with
her. If the situation had been reverse, she would do the same thing too.
‘Imagine a cripple flying a
Gundam,’ she mused, bitterly. She was reminded of her present constraint.
“Anything interesting happen
while I was gone?” she heard him ask. She then turned her attention back at the
task at hand.
“The college people called. They
were wondering why we haven’t been to classes,” she replied, tapping the
keyboard. “I told them we’ve came down with chicken pox. That ought to avoid
any unwanted visits,” she said, referring to the campus counselors.
“Chicken pox, huh?” Heero
echoed, finding himself amused by the notion. Then, he shut down the database
before him in satisfaction. He climbed down the catwalk and walked over to where
he placed his flight suit. “Making any progress yet?”
Sara looked up from where she
was working. “Close but not enough.”
“Well, don’t be too hard on
yourself,” he advised, slipping his flight suit on. “I know exactly how you
feel,” he said, interrupting whatever she was going to say. The girl smiled
gratefully and resumed typing the keyboard. The gold ringlet in her finger,
similar to the one Heero was wearing, glinted in the morning light.
Finally, she stopped and turned
to look at him. “You’re going off now?”
Heero climbed up to the cockpit.
“Yeah. Take care of yourself.”
She hesitated, as if wanting to
say something. But then, she changed her mind. Smiling faintly, she rubbed the
ringlet. “You too,” she whispered, as Wing Zero in its bird mode, began to
hover above the ground. The upper ceiling of the small hangar slid open,
allowing Wing Zero to leave its resting place after some time being grounded.
Then, Sara returned her gaze
back to the screen before her. She tapped a key and the schematics of Wing Zero
appeared on the screen, replacing the one she was working on. She had wanted to
tell Heero something about the Wing Zero but couldn’t. Her only hope was to
find out what the strange reading was before she informed Heero about it.
>>>@@<<<
Winteridge eyed the man before
him. Though his eyes betrayed his nervousness, his jaw was set and determined.
He looked like someone who had had enough. “What can I do for you, Doctor?” he
prompted, calmly.
“Let me ask you something, your
grace. Does my opinion count? Or am I similar to your other mindless soldiers
that guard the door?” he said, sparing a glance at the guards behind him. It
had taken him all his strength and nerve to come up there that morning. And
he’s determined not to falter right then.
The Duke raised his left
eyebrow, surprised by his boldness. “Of course your opinion counts. Did I ever hint
otherwise? You’re a valuable member to this organization,” he answered,
inserting some of his surprise in his tone. “Tell me, what’s on your mind?”
“Just this. I want to stop all
use of drugs on the patient. And I especially want this girl…” At this,
he pointed at Kylie. “…to stay away from him. She’s not helping his condition
at all.”
Winteridge leaned back, calmly.
He tapped his fingers together. “Ahh… so this is about Mr. Winner. How is he
doing?”
“Not good and your people aren’t
helping his condition either,” he answered. The words were beginning to come
out easily now. “Using sedatives on someone over a long period of time can be
hazardous, even for a Gundam pilot. It could lead to many things, including cardiac
arrest.”
“So, what do you suggest?”
“Stop using the drugs on him. Tie
him up or lock him up in a cell for all I care, but you must stop using the
sedatives. His heart could not take it anymore.”
“If we keep using the drugs, how
long does he have to live?”
The doctor’s eyes widened but he
answered the question. “A few weeks. A month at most. But for the love of god,
please stop what you’re doing. The boy’s already showing the signs and he’s
getting weaker by the day.”
To his dismay, Winteridge showed
no emotion at his statements. Instead, he looked thoughtful. After some time,
he regarded the doctor. “I’ll think about it, doctor. Return to your station
for now.”
Flustered, he was about to say
something when the comm. panel beeped. Those inside the room turned their
attention to the vidscreen, where a woman in a white uniform appeared. Her face
was ashen. “Doctor, the patient’s heart just stopped.”
>>>@@<<<
Quatre woke up to the sound of birds chirping and the warmth of the sun that fell onto his face. He opened his eyes and smiled.
He was in a park. He could see the sun streaming through the green trees and of birds flying freely, singing their songs. He could see the children playing and laughing while their parents relaxing, basking themselves under the spring sun. Couples strolled down the park, not minding other people, lost in their own worlds, hand-in-hand.
Looking at himself, he discovered that he was lying on the grass, just under a tree. Thinking that he had dozed off, he propped himself up onto his elbows. That’s when he heard the sound of a strumming guitar and a soft hum. “You’re awake,” said someone.
He looked at where the voice came from and smiled. Leaning against the tree was Kylie, her arms were cradling a guitar. She was dressed in a white summer dress and her silky red hair cascading loosely down her shoulders. She was looking at him, slightly annoyed.
“I thought you were going to sleep the whole day through.”
Quatre looked at her, mischievously. “Are you kidding? And miss being with you on a beautiful day like this?” he teased, seeing the picnic basket and the food that were laid before them. He then saw a scribbled notepad and a pen. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” Kylie replied, strumming the guitar. “I’m writing a song for our first anniversary, remember?” she answered. “And the day is so inspiring,” she commented, inhaling the fresh spring air.
Quatre elbowed himself closer to her. “Well, what is it about?” he asked, reaching for the notepad.
Quickly Kylie grabbed the notepad and stuck a tongue out at him. “It’s a surprise, dummy,” she said, scowling in a mock irritation. “You refused to tell me what you’re getting me and I refuse to let you see the song I’m writing.”
“Please, just let me have a peek,” he begged, playfully.
Kylie pulled the notepad even closer to her chest. “Not if you don’t tell me what you’re getting me.”
His lips parted. He was about to tell her what he was getting her only to find him forgetting what it was. Shaking his head to clear the sleep away, he looked at her mischievously. “No. You’re going to find out when the day comes.”
“Alright, then. You’ll find out about this when that day comes,” she said, tucking the notepad safely inside the picnic basket. She put the guitar aside. Then, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she leaned back and sighed. Her eyes were on the green scenery.
“What a beautiful day this is,” she said, softly.
Quatre propped himself up and leaned against the tree beside her. He reached for her hand but his eyes were looking at what she was seeing. “It is,” he agreed. “And I’m glad I get to spend it with you.”
“Me too.”
“And I want to stay like this forever.” This he said with a strong conviction.
>>>@@<<<
The sounds of running footsteps
echoed throughout the hallway. Each step was filled with anxiety and fear for
the patient. When he finally got to the prisoner’s cell, one of the nurses ran
to him. “Talk to me,” he took charge, making his way straight for the patient.
The nurse followed him. “The
patient’s heart stopped just a few minutes ago. We don’t know what’s wrong but
we couldn’t get him back,” she reported, barely hiding the anxiety in her voice
despite her calm exterior.
‘I know exactly what’s wrong
with him,’ he thought, already starting CPR. ‘It’s that damn drugs they’ve been
giving to the boy,’ he thought, furiously. He forced himself to calm down and
concentrate on the rhythm but nothing seemed to work.
After a moment, he decided to
stop. Without glancing at his two nurses, he declared, “Alright. We need to
shock him.” As soon as he had everything he needed, he started the dreaded
procedure on the patient, hoping that it would be enough.
It didn’t look very promising a
few minutes later and he was about to call it quits when suddenly, the monitor
beeped and he breathe a sigh of relief. Even the nurses had a tear or two in
their eyes. All three of them had somehow developed some sympathy towards the
patient.
For a long while he closed his
eyes, listening to the beeps as though they were the most beautiful tune he had
ever heard. He realized then, that his job was to save lives not torture them.
He nearly wept for letting himself strayed away from that purpose, that reason
that made him a doctor in the first place.
“Good job, Dr. Esteban,” said a
voice he found himself hating. He whirled around.
“Can’t you see what you’re doing
to this poor boy?” he hissed, not caring if that the man before him could kill
him right there and then. “Can’t you see that you’re going to cost the boy his
life? This boy is sick, can’t you see? He’s been ill since the day you brought
him in.”
Duke Winteridge raised his
eyebrow, a little startled. “I see. Have you determined his illness yet?”
Dr. Esteban shook his head. “No.
I’m still working on it.” Then he looked at Winteridge, pleadingly. “Now
will you stop drugging him?” he asked, hopefully.
It didn’t take Winteridge long
to answer. “It is dire that we keep Winner out as long as possible. He’s a
Gundam pilot. If we let his mind free from the influence of the drug, he would
find a way to escape or disrupt our plans. So, the answer is no.”
“That’s unacceptable!” the
doctor argued. “I demand you to stop right now.”
At that, Duke Winteridge’s
demeanor changed. He squared his shoulders and looked at the doctor, icily.
“You demand, doctor? Have you forgotten who’s in charge here?” he asked,
there’s a dangerous tone in his voice. “Or have you forgotten that this
particular Gundam pilot is responsible for the death of your wife and
kids?”
Remembering the reason why he
chose to join Winteridge, the doctor trembled inside. Yes, he had forgotten. He
forgot that this boy, who he was so concern about, had destroyed a colony where
his family was staying five years ago. That this boy was the one who fired the
Wing Zero’s twin rifle on the colony. He should hate this boy, loathe his very
existence. And he did and had sworn to make the boy pay.
But why was he so concern over
the boy’s well being now?
“Tell you what,” said Duke
Winteridge in an attempt on easing the tension. “We will readjust the amount of
drugs we administer on the boy. And there will be no visitor for the boy,
besides the medical staff.” At this point, he looked pointedly at the red
haired clone, who was standing at the doorway with her fellow counterparts. At
first the girl pouted, then nodded in agreement.
“I guess everything’s been taken
care of. Good bye, doctor,” he said, turning to join the clones. He spared a
quick glance at the prone figure on the bed and at the stricken doctor. ‘I
guess I made the right decision by not telling him that I never meant Winner to
survive this ordeal at all.’
>>>@@<<<
When Relena decided that she
need a little time alone at the observation deck, she found that someone else
was already there. “Amy?” she called out, gently. The girl jumped and seemed to
wipe something on her cheek before turning around.
“Miss Relena.”
“Drop this Miss Relena thing,”
said Relena, coming over to the girl. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
Amy nodded, sniffling. “Yes,
Relena.”
“You’ve been thinking about
Kylie, haven’t you?” Relena prompted, noticing her red eyes.
“Kylie, Jack. I guess, I’m still
wondering if I’d ever see Jack again,” she answered. “And Kylie, well…”
“You thought Mylin was Kylie,
right? And you were disappointed that she isn’t.”
Amy nodded. “It’s just that I
wish I had a chance to say good bye to her. She’d done so much for me. Why did
she have to go?”
Relena held the girl. “I know
it’s unfair. And what Winteridge has done by making a clone of Kylie is down right
cruel. But I think given time, you’ll find that it’s better for her to go. Life
had always been hard on Kylie. We should be happy that she, at last, found
peace.”
“You think so?” asked Amy,
wiping her tears.
“I know so. And I’m sure Quatre had
reached the same conclusion in the end too.”
Amy frowned at that. “Quatre?
You mean Quatre Winner the missing Gundam pilot?”
“Yes?” Relena confirmed, not
certain as what to make out from her dreaded expression.
“Oh, my god!” Amy gasped. “I
didn’t think it was possible. I thought… but then…” she stammered, recalling
the last day she saw her friend, Kylie. Her last words to her had been someone’s
name!
‘Quatre needs me.’
“Amy?”
She looked at Relena. “Kylie and
this Quatre were in love, weren’t they?”
At that Relena paused. She
didn’t know how to say it but… “Yes, I think they were.”
Fresh tears clouded her vision.
She recalled Kylie’s happy face once more. “It isn’t right. They shouldn’t be separated
like this,” she whispered. ‘Not like Jack and me.’
>>>@@<<<
Sara tore her gaze away from the
screen. After been staring at the database for the whole day, she decided that
she needed a change of scene. And she was surprised to find that the house was
dark and the moon was high in the night sky.
‘I did it again!’ she groaned,
remembering that she had forgotten her much needed ‘exercise’. A whimper from
her left told her that she had forgotten another thing as well. Wheeling her
chair towards it, she ruffled the soft silver grey fur.
“Sorry, boy. I’ve forgotten all
about lunch. Let’s just settle for dinner, shall we?” she said to Adin. The
wolf dog then led her to the kitchen, wagging its tail eagerly. He watched as
Sara reached for a can on a hip-high kitchen counter and dumped the contents into
a bowl.
“Eat up,” she said, placing the
bowl on the floor. As the dog hungrily devoured his lunch-dinner, Sara grabbed
a frozen taco and threw it into the microwave. “No time to cook. I’ll just
settle for this,” she said to herself, making her way towards her bedroom.
She emerged again, this time in
a sweat suit and made her way towards the living room. She checked the progress
that the database was making before wheeling her way towards the two beams at
the far end of the room.
There she reached for the beams
with both hands, each grasping one beam, and pushed herself upright with a
grunt. After that, she began her prescribed ‘cripple exercise’ as she called it
by carefully pushing herself towards the end of the beam and back.
It was a hard effort but it was
one her therapist back at the rehabilitation centre insisted. And she had also
insisted that Sara do it in the presence of another, as to avoid any accident.
But then again, the therapist wasn’t there and Sara had once threatened Heero
to let her did it alone that now, it became a norm. Sara failed to understand
why this exercise was essential. Why give a cripple the motivation and hope
when it’s obvious that she would never walk again?
She stopped at the middle of the
beam. Her breathing labored and her face was dripping with sweat. Again, she
pushed away the disappointment she was beginning to feel. If she was in her
normal state, it would take a lot to tax her like this.
‘Right!’ she snorted, bitterly.
‘But I’m not who I used to be, am I? I’m just a defenseless weakling now.’
Deciding to continue, Sara’s
hand reached forward only to have slipped when she tried to grasp the beam.
Fighting to regain her hold on the beams, she took a deep breath. Her mind
contemplated on what would happen if she did slip.
‘But you didn’t, right?’ she
reminded herself. ‘So stop acting like a weakling you already are.’
So, she raised her sweaty hand
to wipe it with the towel around her neck. A glint on her finger caught her
attention and she looked at it with mixed emotions. She remembered the first
time she and Heero registered in the college. Although they had tried as hard
as possible to maintain anonymity, they’re attracting more attention than not.
Girls eyed Heero and boys watched her every move. Sara never considered herself
attractive and couldn’t understand why boys were looking at her every time she
made her way around campus. The only reason she could come up was that being in
a wheelchair attracted more attention, much to her discomfort.
But Heero Yuy, now there’s a
reason for attention. She knew why girls turned their heads whenever Heero’s
around. He’s practically the most handsome boy around. And the intensity in his
eyes, the quiet calm in his voice gave him this mysterious aura girls found
themselves easily attracted to.
Sara snorted, shaking her head.
That could be one of the reasons. Another might be that the students were all
wondering what their relationship was. Why Heero was the only one wheeling her
around the campus. Or perhaps they were wondering about these gold ringlets
they both wore on their fingers.
Gripping her fingers around the
beam, Sara shook the thoughts away. ‘It’ll do no good thinking about such
things as long as you’re the one who know the truth,’ she found herself
thinking. ‘Let them say and think what they want. They don’t matter, not any
more.’
With that, she continued pushing
herself towards the other end of the beam, her strength all restored by the
short break. However, before she could reach the other end, she heard a beep
coming from the database.
Fighting to regain balance, she
twisted her useless limbs around and started making her way back towards the
wheelchair, this time her progress was record-breaking, if she bother to
notice. But then, her mind was too distracted in wondering about the
information that the database had just collected.
The journey back was like a
lifetime to her but Sara finally reached the database. Her fingers danced on
the keyboard, her eyes searched the screen like a hawk and her heart raced. She
knew what she was looking at but she had to make sure or risk putting Heero in
danger. But when the database finally confirmed her suspicion the third time,
she allowed herself to breathe.
“I’ve found him,” she declared
to no one in particular. “I’ve found Winner!”
